


Grey. Blue. Gold.

by littlelionleo



Series: Colors. [2]
Category: London Spy
Genre: M/M, really sad, this is sad, why did I write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 10:28:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6980608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlelionleo/pseuds/littlelionleo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wet.<br/>Grey.<br/>Cold.<br/>Blue.<br/>Wind.<br/>I’ve been walking for such a long time.<br/>I think my bare feet are cold.<br/>I can't tell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grey. Blue. Gold.

Wet.

 

Grey.

 

Cold.

 

Blue.

  
  


Wind.

  
  
  


I’ve been walking for such a long time. 

 

My bare feet have turned the same shade of grey blue as the early-morning city.

 

I think they hurt.

 

I can’t tell.

 

How long have I been walking?

 

There’s only one candle left in my pocket.

 

It feels so much heavier than it should.

 

I think my head hurts.

 

My feet are wet.

 

Did it rain?

 

I don’t remember.

 

My hands are shaking.

 

I lost my watch.

 

There’s a strange man staring at me from that reflection.

 

I think I used to know him.

 

He’s a grey blue rusty nickel in the bottom of a change pouch.

 

I have to keep walking.

 

If I don’t, I might lose myself in his eyes.

 

I don’t know him anymore.

 

My suit jacket takes over for me.

 

That’s good.

 

I don’t think I can walk by myself anymore.

 

The suit pulls me along,

 

the candle burns up my side.

 

I’m no longer a person, am I?

 

I’m more of a concept,

 

a shade of this blue grey.

 

It’s raining again.

 

The suit is not pleased.

 

I can’t bring myself to mind.

 

The rain is running down my face.

 

Painting me blue grey,

 

just like that man’s eyes.

 

I’m not tired.

 

I’m not awake.

 

I’m not asleep.

 

I’m not.

 

The suit keeps my legs moving.

 

At least it cares about me.

 

I think.

 

I’m so cold.

 

However hard the suit tries, it can’t stop the wind from pushing me,

 

making me stumble,

 

sagging against corners.

 

It laughs at me.

 

I slump against a wall of a bridge.

 

The water looks just as grey as me.

 

A voice. I jump.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

The suit jacket makes me look up.

 

Grey-blue.

 

Eyes.

 

Grey.

 

Shirt.

  
  


Gold.

 

His eyes are gold.

  
  


“If you knew me, you’d know I’m always okay.”

 

That much is true.

 

I can’t look away from his eyes.

 

They’re so gold.

 

A hand touches me.

 

I can’t help it.

 

I toss forward, over my knees, and.

 

He’s so warm.

 

There are warm arms around me.

 

The suit jacket warms.

 

I close my eyes.

 

He twists under me until I am settled on his lap on this bridge over the grey and blue river.

 

I look up.

 

He’s watching me.

 

Gold. Everything is gold.

 

It’s all gold.


End file.
